


Parachutes

by thunderkat



Category: Verbotene Liebe
Genre: Drama, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-31
Updated: 2010-08-31
Packaged: 2017-10-11 09:17:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/110813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderkat/pseuds/thunderkat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Another Sort Chapter , but from Olli's POV.</p></blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Olli did not have to hear "love," from Christian to know it was there. He felt it, coming home from work, in the long minutes spent in Christian's embrace, his tight hug that said "welcome home", or "I missed you", or the ever unsaid "I love you." He saw it when he caught Christian staring at him, something like disbelief or awe coloring his fair features, a shy smile on his full lips. Olli had heard "love" plenty, from Tom, various strangers on the ship, all so quick with their ardent declarations. All of which proved meaningless in the end. It had been nice enough, but until Christian, he'd never felt it, seen it, or lived it. Christian never said it in words - he wasn't one to say much anyway - but with the light touch of his fingers in Olli's hair after they made love, outing himself in the boxing ring right after his big win, Olli's coffee just right in the morning, and never leaving his side in the hospital;To Olli Christian communicated just fine.

But, there was always a but.

The thing was, he had learned Christian's silent language over these months, even before they'd officially become a couple. He could sense the shuttered tension in his boyfriends' body. He could see how his eyes shone a bit less brightly, the almost microscopic falter in his smile. Something was wrong, and it bothered Olli that while his partner loved him, madly, he didn't trust Olli enough to tell him what was the matter, to let him in.

Olli chuckled wryly to himself as he polished yet another glass.

Wouldn't let him in literally and figuratively. 6 months, not counting the halunke fiasco. 6 months and Christian was still unable to give in. Though Olli wordlessly accepted his promises of "not yet, but soon;" though he understood that Christian was going through so many changes; and though he relished, quite a bit, feeling his lover inside him, the fact still remained. Olli's patience was rapidly unraveling, and it was a conventional wisdom that it was better to give than receive. And really, Olli was such a giving person. Besides, after all they'd been through, Olli was not about to allow the relationship to be undone by something like this.

He knew, just knew that Christian would love it. He blushed thinking of Christian's reaction the other night. It had only been two fingers, but the way he'd bucked and screamed, the sensation of that tight tight velvet hole...

"Oliver"

The young man spun around, embarrassed to be caught in his daydream, and furiously willed away his burgeoning erection.

"Yes Angelo?"

"The guests at the end of the bar, are being neglected."

"Sorry! right away," he responded, stoically ignoring Angelo's exasperated sighs.

It was time to turn on that Sabel charm, as well as that Sabel determination. He'd get what he wanted from Christian, or at the very least a proper a plan already half formed, he turned his full mega-watt smile on the neglected patrons.

"Hey" – Christian barely looked up from his anatomy textbook. Olli knew that with his shift tonight at NoLimits and the upcoming exam, the dreaded drama queen would most assuredly make an appearance before the week was out. Inwardly bracing himself, Olli knew there was nothing that could be done for it. He WAS going to have a conversation with his partner, and whether or not Christian liked it, they were having it tonight.

"Hello my sexy scholar!"

Olli managed with his usual enthusiasm, as he sauntered over. Christian responded with his usual one two combination of sarcastic eye-roll and amused lip twitch.

"Olli, when am I ever not your sexy something?" Christian teased.

"Well, god willing, never Schatz", Olli whispered, stepping behind his partner and kneading away the tension in those broad strong grinned softly as Christian leaned back and closed his eyes.

"I made dinner," Christian said lazily, his voice dipping a register as Olli's fingers worked their magic. "Cous-Cous something, s'on the stove.."

"So domestic" Olli growled, nipping at Christians neck.

"So insatiable" Christian laughed, "But not tonight Olli, there's a bachelorette party happening during my shift, I'm going to turn in in a few minutes, actually."

Olli felt Christian tense, anticipating a complaint from his lover, but Olli ran soothing fingers through golden brown hair.

"I'll set your alarm."

Christian relaxed. Thus far, everything was going according to plan.


	2. Parachutes Chapter 2

Christian opened one bleary eye in confusion and glanced over at his boy friend.

"Im sorry Gregor, I don't think Christian can make it in today, he's quite ill"

Christian wasn't quite sure how Olli managed to coolly lie to his older brother, while his hand was securely locked around's Christian's cock and slowly pumping. It was almost too much and he moaned, appreciatively.

"Mmmm, yes a fever it seems."

Christian hadn't realized that they made alarms like this. Would've bought one ages ago, really. He grunted his approval at this particular methodology of a wake up call.

"Did you hear that Gregor? I'd better go, poor boy…. he's in so much pain."

Olli punctuated the last three words with a wicked twist of his hand that wrought another groan from the younger man. As Olli hung up the phone, Christian realized that Olli had another surprise for him. His hands were bound, and strapped to the bed.

Ah. So, he'd been tricked. He should have known, Olli usually got what he wanted, and it seemed he wanted something very badly.

He looked into his lover's green eyes, and watched a slow smile invade the full lips.

Olli, didn't stop or slow his movements, but leaned over and captured Christian's lips in his own, and the younger man wondered idly if people ever came from kisses alone, because just the barest touch of Olli's soft lips, and the hot swipe of his tongue had him, inexplicably, immediately rock hard.

"Olli, what are you doing?" he panted, fighting to keep his eyes open, as his hips moving of their own volition

"Are you crazy, oh God..I have work … Mein Gott…"

A low seductive chuckle, and another twist, and Christian hardly heard the answer before Olli released his grip on Christian and draped himself over the prone form below him, almost but not quite touching, increasing the body heat between them chest to chest, belly to belly, groin to groin

"Why, Christian," he breathed into a delicate ear, "I'm taking care of you" the quick stab of Olli's tongue against his ear was punctuated with the insistent brush of Olli's groin against his cock. Christian cursed silently. He didn't know what was worse, the sandpaper scrape of Ollis stubble, or the subtle friction of his boyfriend's clothes on his naked and rapidly heating body. When he felt Olli's hands twisting and pinching his nipples he cried out in protest but was muffled by his lover's mouth on his.

He was at his wits end, he pulled against the restraints, desperate to press himself fully against Olli, roll him over and push himself into that hot yielding flesh, he wrapped his legs around Olli's waist, and sucked on the warm invading tongue in his mouth.

"Now, Now, Christian, be good," Olli breathed shakily before biting the opposite an earlobe and soothing it with his tongue.

Christian's hands flexed against the restraints, futilely clawing at the air, but they stilled as Olli kissed his way down to Christian's neck, and sucked at the smooth throat. Olli's warm breath and wicked tongue caused Christian's eyes to swivel to the back of his head and he unconsciously rolled his hips as Olli played him like an instrument. Felt so good, It never failed, Olli's lips and his neck meant his surrender was a fait accompli. He shook and cried out incoherently as Olli laved one nipple than the other.

He felt more than heard the older man chuckle, and after another breathtaking kiss he felt the shock of cold air on his skin. Blue eyes snapped open

"Wait-Wha-"

"Relax Christian, I'm not going anywhere, not until we're good and done"

Christian did as he was told, and watched as Olli peeled off the skin tight white jeans, the ones Christian absolutely loved. He held his breath and locked eyes with Olli as his lover made a downright indecent show of wantonly caressing his own body. Christian felt his cock quiver and leak and suppressed a show of triumph at how it made Olli's breath hitch, those grey-green eyes darkening with unabashed lust.

"Christian",

he said, lazily stroking himself and taking in the sight of the younger man spread helpless before him.

He marveled at Olli, whose voice was almost perfectly even, completely belaying the rose flushed cock jutting out at almost a 90 degree angle from his body.

"Christian, we have a problem"

Christian's mouth went dry, he felt his heart stop. This was it, the dark nameless – no not nameless, named known and ignored – fear, and it was taking over.

He closed his eyes, and turned his head to the side. He felt his chest tightening, and a tingle in his throat. He couldn't bear to look at Oliver, not after this, not after being exposed like this, getting used, and confirming all of Christian's worst and buried suspicions.

"What Oliver," he bit out, still refusing to look the older man in the eye, feeling himself wilt in the face of his fear.

"What's my problem?" He let the sadness wash out, turning to his old friend anger to dry the tears forming in his eyes

"Hmm? We don't FUCK enough? I'm not good enough for you now? You're bored with me? What is this then? One last little ride and it's back to your ship, or your fucking Russian cop? What's the problem Olli, did Tom propose again? Changed your mind? What are you playing at?

He felt the mattress shift as Olli straddled him, and cursed his body for reacting to the traitor.

"This is the problem Christian, OUR problem" Olli grabbed his head and forced it straight. Christian knew that he couldn't contain the tears, so he opened his eyes and let them flow freely.

"This," Olli repeated gently, stroking his face and kissing the paths formed by his tears.

"What's wrong, Christian, talk to me, I..I need you to trust me."

Christian's heart skipped a beat, the look in Olli's eyes, the trembling lip.

"Where is all this coming from Christian, boredom? Tom?, I love you, you idiot, but you..you're shutting me out. I don't want to lose you, but you're shutting down."

"Free my hands," Christian intoned, swallowing back the thick tears that still threatened to escape, to abscond with all his secrets.

"You're right, we'll talk. And I'm not an idiot"

Olli looked doubtful for a long moment, but leaned back on Christian's hips and released his hands from the restraints. He reached out to stroke the side of his lovers face, and felt his heart constrict as Christian pushed his hand away.

"Get off."

Things were not going according to plan.


	3. Parachutes Chapter 3

Olli grabbed two pairs of boxers and handed one to Christian, who quickly pulled the black briefs on and went to stand by the window.

For once in his life, Olli knew he had to wait. He'd been right in restraining Christian, it led them to this point, but he'd never dreamed of that angry outburst, he'd expected to seduce the answer out of him, did not expect to be sitting here nervously chewing his bottom lip and fighting an all pervading sense of dread.

He heard Christian take a deep breath, and felt rather than saw him run his fingers through his hair.

"Oliver I'm sorry, I don't know why I freaked out like that, I guess I'm just stressed… this test."

"No, Christian. Don't do that" Olli said tiredly. "Just, don't. You and I both know that your test has nothing to do with us. I'm asking you for one thing. Talk to me. Be honest with me. Please?"

He shut his eyes, hoping that the burning he felt was fatigue, but he knew better.

He heard Christian walk over, and when the man came to rest in front of him he looked up, holding his gaze for long seconds, trying to reassure, trying to silently communicate all that the man in front of him had come to mean. He watched, breathless as Christian sank down to his knees, wrapped his arms around Olli's waist and laid his head in his lovers lap.

"Olli," the barest of whispers accompanied by a tightening grip and a gentle nuzzle against his abdomen, "Olli I can't.I can't tell you why I'm like this, it's, I just don't know."

Olli could hardly believe the depth of misery emanating from the younger man.

"Why can't you tell me Schatz?" He whispered, in the same hushed tones. Olli felt like he was soothing a skittish colt. But he recognized Christian's can't for what it was - a refusal. Olli was determined to find out what that denial was borne of.

Christian was silent, but gripped Olli tighter, burrowing his heated face into the satiny skin above the elastic waistband of Olli's boxers.

"Oh Christian,"

Olli raised the boxers chin, and leaned down and kissed him, grazing that lush lower lip, holding him there as he probed gently with his tongue, thumbs tracing calming circles on the young man's cheeks.

He broke away, seeing for the first time a breach, a slight break in the defenses that had hampered them all these months. He would change tactics, he'd tried to force it out of Christian, which in hindsight was a bad idea. Now he would try kindness, because he would try anything as long as it meant this man opened up to him.

"Christian," he breathed, inches away but still feeling the gulf they had to conquer,

"I want to know all of your secrets, tell me everything… and I promise you won't keep them alone. I promise." And he sealed it with another kiss.

Christian was tempted, could he trust, would Olli still want him if he let go, if he withheld nothing. He could feel Olli' slow measured breathing, lung-fulls of calming air expanding and contracting that gorgeous torso. He was grounded by those large strong hands,and an equally warm forehead resting against his. When he opened his eyes Olli was there, watching, waiting. This man was already a part of his body, and under the scrutiny of that green gaze Christian held his breath and in the eternity of a moment decided.

Why not?

Why not trust? Why not try? Olli had never let him down yet. Olli was strong, But he didn't know if it was time. And he didn't know if even Olli could withstand this. But he had to try anyway.

Christian clambered onto his bed, and let himself be held, traced non-sense patterns on Olli's stomach, and kissed his way up the strong chest, darting out his tongue to taste the skin before settling on Olli's lips with a wordless apology and goodbye.

He rolled away from his lover and sat, head hung with his elbows resting on his knees.

He didn't look, didn't dare look to see the reaction afraid, of all things, of Olli. What would he say? What would he do? Finally he looked out of his window, seeking answers in the rooftops of Dusseldorf.

"I think. I love you."

He winced as he heard Olli gasp, and looked back down at the floor. He couldn't recall being more scared in his life.


	4. Parachutes Chapter 4

It was quite a thing to deal with the elation and dread that pushed Olli's heart into his throat. He'd been lying to himself if he'd said it didn't matter that Christian never said it. It mattered more than anything, and now that it was out, that unspoken well known secret, the import of it hit Olli in the gut, it made his hands go cold and made his face heat, made his heart do un-nameable things in his chest. Looking at the still, almost granite like set of Christian's shoulders, Olli could see what it cost the man to admit this. And he was forced to acknowledge that really, he hadn't been as brave as Christian. After all, it was deceptively easy to declare love to someone he thought had no hope of loving him back, as he'd believed of Christian while he was with Coco. And ,of course, in the beginning of a relationship, swirling with the eddies of new passion an "ich liebe dich" was so easy to access when your lover was around you and inside you. When, Olli wondered, when in all those throwaway penny "I love you's," when had he ever taken the time to make Christian actually hear it?

He was snapped out of his reverie by the sound of Christian pulling on his jeans.

"I'm sorry, Olli. I'm-"

Olli snapped out of his inaction, he knew that once again Christian's bedroom door was going to serve as the Rubicon for their relationship. He blocked the door and quickly locked it. He mused to himself that at least this time they were both on the same side of the door, but perhaps that complicated things.

Christian still refused to meet his gaze, looking out the window, looking at Erwin, anything to avoid Olli.

"Sorry for what, Schatz? Are you sorry for loving me?"

Olli's throat was dry and he reached a tentative hand for Christian's face, relieved when he other man allowed his touch, leant into it, an almost pavlovian response for him at this point.

"No." Christian said quietly, miserably.

"O.k.," Olli whispered breathing out a sigh of relief, "I'm not letting you go anywhere now tell me why you were so scared to admit that."

"No." Christian said again, more forcefully, shrugging off Olli's hand and moving to unlock the door.

"Christian, wait," Olli grabbed his hand to still him, but the numbness that had settled over Christian since he'd said those three words was evaporating, and he flung Olli's hands off of him, and finally looked up eyes cobalt and blazing.

"What is there to wait for Olli, huh?" Olli was pressed against the door as Christian advanced, and Olli was fiercely reminded of their exchange after he'd first kissed him.

"I've learned a lot about you, Oliver." Christian's voice was barely above a rasp, but it seemed to echo all around Olli, surrounded on either side by Christian's forearms.

"I've learned that you run away when things aren't easy. You don't think about the future, you ALWAYS leap before you look, and sometimes you're just damned irrational. What should I wait for, when I tell someone like that I love him?" Christian's voice was low and strained, and he dropped his head, on Olli's shoulder, as though its weight was too much to bear. "Why should I wait, when you'll just leave, like everyone else."

Olli was still. He knew he should be angry, but something inside him was perversely proud. Christian, with his unflinching honesty, had just flayed him alive. He'd rightly, called Olli on about seventy percent of his failings. But, and this was most important, this is what made Olli nearly confident that they would land all right, Christian loved him still. Though it was still frightening, at least they'd be frightened and apprehensive together.

He rubbed his cheek against the downy soft hair, and planted kisses wherever he could reach.

"Anything else?"

He said, when he was sure he could speak without the knife edge of anger or sarcasm peeking through his tone.

"Ja," Christian mumbled, furrowing deeper into Olli's neck, "You're a nymphomaniac, you need help."

"The preferred term is hypersexual, and I think I've found a suitable treatment method."

Olli wrapped his arms around Christian's waist, pulled the younger man to him and kissed him lightly, counting it as a small victory when he met no resistance slipping the younger man's jeans back off of him. Olli's micro-victories continued to accrue as he laced his fingers with Christian's and led him back to their shared bed where they sat side by side in what Olli liked to call their "Christian Crisis Intervention" position, propped against the headboard with their legs touching and hands entwined. They sat silently for a while, breathing in sync, until Olli was sure Christian's agitation had dissipated.

"Now, Christian, if you don't mind me asking. What the hell was all that?"


	5. Parachutes Chapter 5

Christian found himself gazing into green again, found himself fighting not to move away from the warm welcoming body at his side. He was running out of barriers. And, while he was also running out of reasons to keep them up, he knew Olli didn't understand, couldn't know, and the inevitability of it drained him. His mother, Coco, his father, hell even Gregor – everyone- everyone he'd cared about or loved, anyone who defined, or defended him, or loved him - had left him at some point, and precisely when he'd needed or wanted them most.

He'd driven Coco to Goa, his father died while he was in jail, His mother had killed herself, and he still carried a hard kernel of hurt from when Gregor had abandoned them soon afterward. Christian couldn't help but think of himself as a black widow when it came to love, leaving behind death, suicide, abandonment and resentment. It colored every relationship in his life, without fail. That it had not occurred yet in his relationship with Olli, was a minor miracle. But it was coming, if Axel's attack had achieved anything it reinforced what Christian knew in that organic inchoate way of knowing, that his happiness and love for Oliver was a doomed thing. At any second, it would ripped away and he'd be plunged into an abyss of hurt so dark and deep, he doubted ever being found again. The worst part was he could feel the cold grip of his fate trying to clutch at him after every single caress, and every "I love you" Olli uttered. This bone deep anxiety constrained him, forced to him to be artificial with everyone that mattered, forced, inauthentic. An embarrassed chuckle when his brother would tell him he loved him, and a pathetic ich dich auch when Olli would; it made him a liar and kept him from being with his lover in every true sense of the word.

" Look, I'm sorry about that, just now." He said, leaning on Olli's shoulder. "You don't run away when things are hard, that was unfair of me, especially when I was the one who wanted to travel to India to get away from you. And it was especially unfair after all you've done for me since I started boxing. Thank you, I mean it." Christian leaned in and gave Olli the sweetest, most chaste kiss, infusing it with all the gratitude he felt, a palliative balm for his outburst earlier.

"Bitte, Christian. You know I'll always be here for you. But, you haven't answered my question."

Christian flushed at the earnestness in Olli's voice, and the decisive cast of his eyes, disarmed by the strength he saw there he bowed his head.

"You're a pretty stubborn guy, huh Olli?"

"I've found out it pays off more often than not, especially lately." Olli responded, his voice still hushed and serious.

"Yes, well I've seen that first hand." Christian smiled softly to himself.

He was speaking now to Olli's hand, still clasped so tightly in his. He loved Olli's hands, strong, unmistakably male and sure, always so sure, whether they cradled his face or flew over his skin to draw out every contented sigh and murmur that dared to hide itself in Christian. To this man, no he could not confess, this man who refused to accept anything less than the absolute truth, but those hands could serve as confessional, and maybe carry the burden of the implications of his love.

He reached over and turned off the light, and pulled Olli down to lie with him, resting his head on the taut abdominals and drowning his fingertips in the sensation of skin.

"I'm afraid, Olli, of a lot of things. I'm afraid we won't work out, I'm afraid you'll leave me, I'm afraid I'm too boring for you, I'm afraid of-"

He choked back a sob, as he remembered Olli trembling and broken on the floor of the bar downstairs, the unparalleled anguish of those seconds when his heart forgot its purpose.

"Hey, hey calm down Christian, just tell it to me one thing at a time." Those hands came up around him again, grounding him soothing him.

"Olli, I'm bad for you. Don't you understand? You're so amazing, you deserve someone better, someone who won't hurt you, someone who can protect you. All I've done, from the moment we met, is either hurt your feelings or get you hurt. I love you, but one day you'll get sick of it."

He clutched Olli tighter to him.

"One day, you'll get sick of me."

Christian closed his eyes. Olli was smart, and now that he saw it too, he would get away, and as much as he didn't want to, Christian would let him. Because he meant it, Olli deserved better, and he wouldn't be the one to stand in the way of that. His body tensed at the silence, and when he felt Olli's abdomen fluttering beneath him followed by the quiet laughter, he looked up sharply in confusion. Christian suddenly found himself on his back as Olli quickly slithered out from underneath him and flipped him over where he was defenseless, trapped by a magnetic green stare, and the lithe body on top of his.

"Sick of you? My God Christian, I can't get enough of you. It's been six months, by all rights the honeymoon should be over. I've seen the real you too, you know. Judgmental, uptight, serious, A 24 year old body and a 60 year old mind. And yes, you hurt me in the past, but that's love Christian, sometimes it hurts. But something else I know, is that you love me, more than anyone ever has. It's enough, Christian, more than enough, and its so worth it. I love you."

Olli followed his declaration with a fervent kiss, and Christian felt his resolve slipping at the first liquid slide of Olli's tongue in his mouth. He pushed up at Olli before he could make his way down to his neck. Christian couldn't afford to be distracted now. And whiled he had heard the conviction in Olli's voice, and felt it in the intensity of his grip, he was still wary.

"But Olli, just because you're happy now, I mean, what if something else like with Axel-"

"Look, for the last time. It wasn't your fault. It's not your job to be a knight in shining armor, I'm not a damsel in distress and you're not a prince. You're my boyfriend, and coincidentally the love of my life. Don't think about the what ifs anymore Christian. Just think about now, and just keep loving me. I promise, things will fall into place."

"But you can't know that Olli."

"Neither can you, so what do you think is the best way to deal with uncertainty? Start a fight with the man who loves you more than anything? We both know that won't get you anywhere. It's a risk for me too Christian, but I trust you. As long as you do the same, I won't let you down." Christian sighed. He could never refuse, Olli wasn't asking for much, nothing more than Christian was willing to give, nothing less than Olli deserved.

"I can do that, Olli, I can do that." He said, pulling Olli down to him once more to capture him in another kiss. "And my mind is not 60. It's closer to 55"

"Well, Christian, to be honest, at the moment, I'm just a little more interested in your body"

"Nympho."

Olli didn't respond, his lips were securely fastened to Christian's neck, and Christian could feel the response building in him.

"Christian," Olli whispered "we're done talking for now."


	6. Parachutes Chapter 6

Olli had meant that Christian was done talking. And if Olli was honest with himself, he'd admit that he wasn't much more of a conversationalist than Christian was, not really. Not when it came to emotions as deep and as complicated as all this. Somewhere between the failed drug career, the failed cruise ship career, and more failed relationships than he cared to admit, even to Christian, he'd realized talking had rarely truly resolved anything in his life. And more often than not, solace was sought in the comforting plainness of action. He was a natural, to be sure, at drawing things out of his others. Their secrets, like so much rain upon the starving earth of his compassion. He drank it all. But as for himself, more often than not, he was silent, sentinel, waiting and understanding. But it was hard.

There was no one in his life he'd ever understood better than Christian. So Olli knew exactly how costly it had been for his partner to tell him everything. To loosen the weight of his concerns, in their bed, in this shroud of darkness that didn't quite conceal the slight tremor in his voice, or the agonized cast of his sky blue eyes. To do this, was astonishing, and appreciated, so very much appreciated. The Christian who lay beneath him was at his most vulnerable, and most beautiful, and he would tax him no more, not tonight. He'd gotten most of the important answers anyway. What was needed now were assurances, a delicate marriage of words and action.

He rose, suspending himself above the prone form below him and waited, sentinel like again.

"Olli?"

He could hear it now, and how much clearer, how blatant, the soft tenor tinged with fear. It would soon be replaced, transformed.

He shushed Christian with a barely - there brush of his lips, and already the action soothed so he moved to apply the balm elsewhere, everywhere.

"I do love you, you know," He whispered, working his way down the supple throat,

smiling at the slight catch in Christian's breathing, before he wound his way to the smooth strong chest.

"I love your honesty," he said, sweeping over one nipple, and grinning at how it elicited a squirm and a sigh.

"I love your strength," he murmured, suckling and biting the other nipple until he heard a quiet moan escape Christian's lips.

"I love your loyalty," he sighed, as his tongue traced patterns along his lover's taut midsection, and glanced up, watching the rapid rise and fall of Christian's chest, and he marveled at the infinitesimal smile gracing the boyish face. Something in the wry twist of that sensual mouth made him ache. It had been months since he'd seen even an inkling of Christian's true smile, and he wanted to be the one to paint it there as long as possible.

"I love how you let me see you like this," Olli said, clasping one of Christian's hands tightly in his own, and using the other to divest him, finally, of his boxers.

"You mean, weak?"

"Unguarded," Olli answered quickly, before the thread of uncertainty could wind its way tighter around Christian.

"Incredible" he uttered, gossamer - soft, as he pressed a soft sweet kiss to the head of Christian's erection.

"Gorgeous," a long swipe of his tongue. "Mine," and he made sure to meet the azure eyes unflinchingly before relaxing his throat and swallowing him whole.

When he heard the "Olli" this time it was unchained, divested of doubt and ripe with want. He tightened his hold on Christian's hand, as he felt greedy fingers take root in his scalp; anchors, points of connection or perhaps salvation. At any rate, it needed no definition. The gasping desperate sighs, the steady mindless thrusts were, exactly as he'd wanted, beyond the pale of conversation, and rapidly approaching the outer bounds of sanity

He could feel the muscles clenching and releasing beneath him, could feel how Christian strained to keep some measure of control, and really, Olli had had enough of this. He'd had his fill of this holding back, enough of the brooding eyes and half-a Christian. He'd bound the man to the bed earlier, but now he knew it was time to irrevocably bind Christian to him. Before even an inkling of protest could be uttered, Olli shot up lightening fast, grabbed the lube from the nightstand and obliterated reluctance with one well - placed and unerringly accurate finger, before devouring Christian again. He didn't say Olli's name this time, didn't say anything remotely coherent. He just shouted, some passionate exhalation that seemed to home in on Olli's dick with the sole intent of making it harder. Olli wasn't quite sure he'd make it to two digits if Christian made a noise like that again. He didn't need to tell Christian, but he loved this too, sort of thrived off of it, really, and he moaned in tense sympathy, when Christian let go of his head and hand and fervently clawed the sheets instead, unconsciously circling his hips, pushing back into Olli, begging for more with every shred of his being. This, this is what Olli had wanted, and it was all the sweeter having been preceded by an uncharacteristic bout of true confessions. His faltering breath, his clenched fists, his pulsating tight hole, his head thrashing from side to side; they were all reinforcing everything his words had, and revealing some things they hadn't. Olli was humming so happily to himself, so busy establishing a rhythm with his tongue and fingers he almost didn't hear the whispered appeal.

"More."

He forgot to breathe. He must have misheard. He watched in rapt fascination as Christian continued to flail and fuck himself on Olli's hand.

"Don't stop Olli…" the request was low, gravelly, desperate.

He recognized this. He'd been in this precise state thanks to Christian, so many times, and understood what it was he wanted more of, understood the bone deep voracity of wanting. It had undone him more times than he cared to remember, but he'd never seen this in Christian. Olli felt he could come just watching Christian drown in sensation. And for the first time Olli was afraid. He was afraid of himself, of this monstrous desire that demanded he turn Christian around on all fours and drive himself into that sweet silken opening. That inner demon insisted he hold the man down and give himself the all consuming, fiery relief his aching cock demanded, the harsh possession of Christian writhing inescapably beneath. And why not, Christian was his, solely his for the taking, why on earth not?

_I can do that, Olli, I can do that. _

The words reverberated, and Olli remembered. Trust, he had this man's trust, and he wouldn't violate that for anything, least of all himself. He shuddered as Christian continued to flutter and throb around his fingers, and inched his way back up, laying flush against the body beneath him. Running his other hand through the soft brown, he kissed his boyfriend again, more soothing, more unspoken promises as he kept his hand in place, kept Christian suspended on the brink of pleasure, rutting and sliding as much as possible against the feverishly twitching and groaning form. He would control himself, he had to, but oh God Christian was making it hard not to give in to what he wanted so desperately to do.

"Olli…Bitte...More."

Maybe it was whispered this time, maybe a yell. Whatever form the entreaty took was irrelevant. Olli groaned as his precarious control shattered.

"Fuck, Christian, yes, yes."

It was time.


	7. Parachutes Chapter 7

"More."

His blood was boiling, and he wasn't sure if Olli heard him over the obscenely erotic sounds his mouth was making around his dick. But, when he released him, Christian couldn't tear his eyes away from Olli's, moist red mouth or lust - darkened eyes. He couldn't say out loud what he needed, couldn't face the fact head on, that he was asking for_… that_ after all this time. But when Olli sheltered him again, when he tasted those lips that tasted of himself, of Olli, of assurance, he parted his thighs and asked again:

"Olli", "Please," "More."

Olli answered with a curse, a groan and whispered words, and the transformation was immediate. His green eyes turning almost black, predatory and controlling. He didn't look away while Olli silently prepared himself, couldn't wrest his gaze from this person who was and wasn't his Olli, holding him in thrall. He'd asked for this, owed this to Olli. He owed this to himself. He gave a little gasp at the first blunt press against his entrance, which made Olli stop. Which made Christian doubt.

Before, as he'd watched Olli itemize and devour him, his ravens wing lashes fluttering against pale skin, Christian knew he couldn't go back to how they'd been. The formula was always, Olli comforting and soothing and fixing things. When he'd fallen in the ring, when he'd been too frightened to face Gregor, or himself, Olli's voice, a safeguard against despair cutting through everything, caught and held him until he'd landed safely on the other side of the storm. Olli was always there, always waiting, waiting to catch Christian whenever he stumbled headlong into doubt.

"Are you ok?"

And Christian almost laughed, right there, because really he wasn't ok, he was in need, desperate need, terrified that he couldn't go through with it and terrified that he couldn't trust him with this, despite seeing how badly Olli wanted it. He searched for the answers in the eyes above in the gentle green that held him, that had already seen him through so much. There was no other way, not when the man he loved, possibly more than anything, needed him so badly. He closed his eyes and nodded his head. Olli wouldn't let him down; Olli would catch him, and he would do the same for Olli, because he saw, in those questioning eyes, the same reflected fear and uncertainty. He knew he could take it away.

"I'm ok," Christian whispered, the truth of it hitting him as the words tumbled out, as the smile he no longer wanted to suppress burst out of him. "It's you so I'm ok." He saw the answering smile, and he held his breath when Olli pushed into him.

_So, hard and_

_It h-_

_No, not hurt, just_

_Oh…_

_so full!_

_And how strange…_

_his cock wh-_

_But good, so good so-_

_he had to hold-_

_And just-_

_him inside_

_A bit more.._

_his lips_

_Just –_

_his hands, perfection_

_Just –_

_Oliver._

_"because I've fallen in love with you.."_

Olli

His -

HIS.

Yes


	8. Parachutes Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Sort Chapter , but from Olli's POV.

"Just relax Christian, it's going to be fine, it's going to be good I promise."

Olli was barely able to get a sentence out. Christian's strained gasping and panting whimpers were driving him insane, to the point of actually trembling with need. His threadbare restraint was sorely tested every time his cock-head eased into the passage through that first tight ring. He could feel the sweat pooling in his back as he held Christian's thighs apart. Seeing his lover spread out before him, his dick slick with the evidence of his desire, his hands clutching desperately at the sheets, Olli was so close to collapsing upon the work of art before him. He was one more grunt or sigh or moan from pressing Christian down to the mattress and fucking him in hard quick thrusts that would have them both coming in seconds. He made himself hold still, closing his eyes against the erotic tableau of Christian's flushed skin and wantonly, blatantly lust filled face. But wordless whispers slipped out of Christian short circuiting his brain. Christian was begging, hot flushed and shameless around his cock - and tight, so tight.

Olli couldn't anymore, he gave in, falling upon Christian and driving himself into the warm welcoming heat beneath him, wetly mouthing the ultra sensitive neck, to illicit more sighs, more pleading, more of those sounds that drove him he opened his eyes again Christian was looking at him, ineluctably beautiful in his vulnerability, feeble with desire, while his tempestuous blue demanded more, ever more.

So this is what he'd meant, whenever he said he loved Olli all weak, and defenseless. Love wasn't the word. Awe. Worship, he was worshiping Christian with every thrust, with everything he had. And hunger, he wanted to make Christian scream, wanted to nip at the smooth neck and leave marks to make sure everyone knew. And it was ok. Christian had said it would be ok, and God it needed to be, because with every sigh, every heated murmur of his name, and every tiny shudder in the body beneath him, he was falling, unbelievably, unrestrainedly more in love with him.


	9. Parachutes Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - So, i posted this elswhere... and it has been described as raunchy? I personally think it's quite tame, but i thought it fair to put a warning. Erotic times ahead.

Olli inside him, supported by those strong arms, and anchored by green eyes reflecting light and love and something just a little darker something that made Christian's blood burn. He felt exposed and turned his head to hide in the crook of Olli's neck, tasting the sweat and inhaling that scent, the one that had nearly driven him mad with want after their first time, the one that was a unique bouquet of musk, and Olli's cologne, and something just indefinably perfect. When he started to gently rotate his hips, subtly establishing a rhythm for them to follow, it became so hard to concentrate on one sensation at a time. Christian's nerves sang as Olli traced senseless patterns on his back, they composed a symphony when he felt the first brush of Olli's thick length against his prostate. He couldn't comprehend the shuddering ecstasy coursing suddenly through him, and the waves and waves of lust that had him breaking out in a sweat, and clenching tighter and tighter around Olli's hard dick.

"Olli- Mein Gott"

Christian shut his eyes tight against the onslaught and mewled his pleasure and fear against his Olli's throat. His hands frantically searched for purchase, finally anchoring themselves in the silken thickness of Olli's hair. Was it supposed to feel so good? Was his ass supposed to grab and clench like this at Olli? Why couldn't he catch his breath, panting like he was in the 8th round? What the hell was going on?

When Olli started speeding up, Christian was sure he would die, he tried to pull away to warn him but Olli only growled and tightened his grip. Christian knew he was gone, knew if he looked into those eyes now, he'd probably fall prey to whatever had taken a hold of Olli as well. When he felt the sharp white teeth grazing his shoulder, his cock danced and leaked even more fluid, and Christian's voice hit a register he was sure he hadn't hit since middle school, before descending into a cacophony of breathless grunts and sustained moans.

He gave up trying to pull away, he'd lived an ok sort of life, and if it were to end locked in his lovers arms in the grips of such intense pleasure, it couldn't have been that bad. Instead Christian was frantic trembling in awe of every marvelous inch of Olli, his hands roaming the sturdy biceps, his hips snapping up to press his aching dick against the smooth muscular stomach, his mouth begging for those unearthly soft lips, but he kept his eyes closed.

He didn't know what else to do, though his body seemed to get the message, there was still a part of Christian that couldn't stop seeing Olli walk away, better to not see him at all than to face even the specter of abandonment. It was a tiny cold kernel of fear that Christian wanted, desperately, to dispel, but couldn't. Despite all they'd been through tonight, it was imbedded in him, so deeply. This, _incredible_ thing they were doing was so much, and at the same time it wasn't enough. What more could he-

"Look at me Christian"

That velvet voice, his lifeline reaching out to him and in his confusion, he grasped it.

He could do nothing but obey, and his heart stopped at what he saw there. No, lust crazed monster or indifferent lover, no instead an answering need, that same mirrored defenselessness that made him want to hold on tight made him search for the hot press of Olli's mouth, made him want to take in more of Oliver and possibly - no definitely - never let go.

"Christian" – his name on Olli's lips was a broken desperate thing, a growl that spoke of fulfillment, of eroticism and not least of all love, as he moved faster plunging into Christian's tight warmth

"Ich Liebe dich"

Christian broke, he let it all go, his thin excuses for keeping Olli at bay, his fear his reluctance all shattered as his hands threaded together behind Olli's neck, his back arched neck exposed impossibly long and as Olli got even deeper while Christian hung on for dear life, feeling every thrust reverberate through the length of his body, his cock twitching, slick, and needy.

When Olli put his hand on him, Christian's mind shattered, battered and buoyed by love he couldn't hear himself, could only feel could only hold on to Olli that much tighter as cold fear receded into a white hot ember of love and desire radiating outward, suffusing his tanned body as he arched and shuddered through a climax so intense he was sure he'd be left blind. Christian was beyond thought, beyond reason, was only dimly aware that his mouth was moving, a litany of probably wordless sounds; but Olli was still at the edge, and what he heard Christian say had him flying over it.

Love. It was a chant, a prayer, whispered between them, reverently feverishly as the last barriers tumbled and Christian panted through his new reality.

Love. Pure and whole and too full, too much to be contained anymore, unchained and he could share it. He was free and he could share it with the one person he wanted to most of all..


	10. Parachutes Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff FEST!

* * *

Olli basked in the silence that overtook them. Christian's desperate breathing took ages to return to normal, and Olli couldn't hide the cocky smile that took over his face, knowing that he was responsible for creating this puddle of satiated happiness, otherwise known as Christian.

"Everything Ok?" Olli asked, when he felt Christian would be capable of answering, and when he felt he'd be capable of understanding the answer.

Christian responded with a shaky exhale and a subdued "Oh Mein Gott. I think so."

Olli watched carefully as Christian tensed and released his muscles, staring mindlessly at the ceiling, quiet and definitely avoiding Olli's eyes. With his lower lip caught between his teeth, Olli nervously reached out a hand to stroke Christian's cheek. He was startled when his finger came away with a little moisture.

"Christian, are you ok? Did I hurt you? Oh god, I'm sorry it was too much, wasn't it? I got carried away I didn't realize. I thought it was good, really." He'd never seen Christian cry before and tonight he'd seen it twice. In his less than charitable moments he'd often thought the man incapable of tears, but he knew better now. And he also knew that if he never saw it again it would be too soon. Seeing the odd wet glisten, and hearing the strange snuffling sounds in his throat filled Olli with a wild unbridled fear, and he hated himself for being the one who did this to him.

"Do you, um, do you want me to leave you alone?" He almost choked on the words, wrapped them in a ragged sigh as the hope that he'd never have to ask that again left him, and he waited numbly for Christian's answer. He hadn't slept in his own room since before the fight, but his clothes were still there, and it was just another one of those things that lived in the silent spaces between them. He didn't push and Christian never brought it up, but if Christian needed it he'd slink off to his cold hard bed no questions asked. He'd refuse Christian nothing tonight, and whereas before it had been more, he was quite petrified by the prospect that Christian would now demand less- of Olli, of everything, just to handle whatever was going on inside him.

"Olli, stop, I'm fine. Don't you dare go anywhere." Christian said, quietly, as he turned to haul Olli into his arms, sloppily wiping away his own tears. He felt Christian respond to his whimper of relief by tightening his hold. It was backwards, it wasn't supposed to be this way, he should have been the one comforting and holding Christian but instead he burrowed deeper into the sweat slicked chest, and let his fraying nerves repair themselves with every soft stroke of Christian's hands in his hair and with the miniscule sighs and twitches of sated muscle.

He'd settled on caressing Christian's side, and burying his nose in the taut skin of his abdomen, taking lung- fulls of his scent, sweat and musk and –inexplicably-cloves. He always smelled of cloves, something that had driven Olli crazy with want the first time he'd realized. He looked up when Christian shifted them on to their sides, tangling their legs together, pulling Olli back up to lay face to face on the pillow. Christian smiled at him, answering the unspoken question in Olli's eyes by grabbing hold of his hand and pressing it softly to his lips, and his heart.

"I didn't mean to scare you." He said so softly that Olli had to strain to hear even in the quiet of the bedroom. "It's just … that was crazy, you know?" Olli nodded, drawing a little closer, his palm pressed flat against the smooth chest.

"Crazy, good or crazy bad?"

"Good, definitely good. Really amazing, actually." Olli watched a barely perceptible blush intrude on his cheeks and Christian let out a little huff of incredulous laughter.

He licked at the feel of Christians breath whistling against his lips, slightly ashamed at the lust that still pooled in his belly at Christian's admission.

"Was I okay for you Olli?"

He smoothed out the wrinkled furrows in Christian's brow with his thumb, then kissed him softly on the lips.

"More than okay Chrissie." He smiled at the sigh of relief that ghosted past his lips, and just stared at Christian, tracing patterns with the pad of his thumb around Christian's nipple. Christian's hand caught his again, stilling the movement, and looking deeply into Olli's eyes.

"When I was a kid," Christian began, swallowing thickly and rubbing his calf against Olli's "my father would leave us for weeks at a time. He went God knows where to do his gambling and drinking. Gregor checked out of there as soon as he could, as often as he could and it was just me and mom."

Christian's grip on Olli's hand was almost painful now, but Olli didn't move an inch, silently willing Christian to continue. "I had no idea, you know, how sad she was because she always made me feel so happy and good." Olli winced as the grip on his hand got even tighter. "Sorry." Christian said sheepishly placing a kiss on the tips of his fingers. "I only ever felt safe with her. After she died, I was really alone. It's not that I didn't love my father, I did, but I was always taking care of him, hoping that he would just get it together one day. He never did and I was stuck with him, but I was always so alone."

"Oh Christian." Olli whispered, unable to bear the pain in his voice any longer. He gathered him into his arms, rocking him slightly and smoothing the fluffy blonde hair. Olli felt the lassitude slowly creep into Christian, but didn't let him go until Christian moved of his own accord to look at Olli again.

"I'm not alone anymore." He said, tracing Olli's jaw, and Olli could see the wonder and the joy at this curving the full lips into a slow easy smile.

"No," Olli whispered back fiercely "Definitely not. Never."

Christian's answering grin was huge, and Olli was slightly shocked to suddenly find himself on his back while Christian straddled him, peppering every available inch of bare flesh with feather light kisses. He laughed, until Christian lay flush against him, softly biting, licking and sucking at a sweet spot on Olli's neck that made his cock start to fill, and his heart pound.

"When are you going to move your stuff in here?"

Christian was practically purring the question into his ear now, and it wasn't helping the situation at all that his boyfriend was rubbing himself wantonly against Olli's thigh, punctuating every word with a tiny mewl of pleasure.

"God, whenever you want, tomorrow?" Olli answered grabbing Christian's hips to haul him even closer, his excitement multiplied because of the enormity of Christian's request.

"No, later tonight, ok?" Christian said before covering Olli's lips with his own.

"Are you sure ?" Olli asked when Christian let him up for air.

"Yeah, really sure. I'd ask you to do it right now but I want to…um, I need you to-"

Olli bit back a groan when Christian angled his ass to push insistently against Olli's straining erection.

"Fuck me again."

His voice was low and rough, and left no room for argument, and Olli, to his credit, wasn't even going to try to talk him out of it. They didn't move anything that night.

When Olli woke up the next morning, he reached instinctively for Christian and was surprised to find that side of the bed empty. He swung his legs over the edge, taking a moment to steady himself and shake his head ruefully. It was precisely at times like this that Olli was forcibly reminded of the age difference between he and his boyfriend. It was a thought that never failed to make him smile. He grabbed a pair of Christian's boxers off the floor to walk the short distance to his bedroom. Scratching absently at the nail marks Christian had left on his chest, he wondered if he'd have time to brew him coffee before he joining him in the shower. Olli swung open the door to his room whistling softly to himself, but the song fled at the sight that greeted him.

Christian sat cross-legged in the middle of his bed, piles of Olli's clothes folded neatly around him. He was staring intently at a little red book clasped loosely in his hands, and Olli knew, before he even looked up, the anger and confusion that he would meet in those eyes. Olli's throat clenched tight and he sagged against the doorframe defeated.

"Oliver. What the hell is this?" Christian's voice was quiet, but he flung the book with enough force to reverberate loudly in the sparse room. Olli covered his face with his hands, rubbing at his eyes, as if hoping to erase what was happening. But he knew he couldn't.

"I can explain." He said, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. "Just let me explain, please? And then you can ask me whatever you want. Anything."

Christian sat silently, appraising Oliver for all of one minute before nodding his head once. Olli picked his journal off the floor and sat to face Christian, and to face the possible dissolution of his relationship.


	11. Parachutes Chapter 11

He'd woken up before Olli, slightly disoriented, and a little panicked until he'd turned his head to feel Olli's scalp tickling his chin, and he smiled at the sensation. It was silly, he'd known Olli would be there when he woke up - he'd woken up with Olli a million times before. But that had been before this new understanding. Those mornings prior had been good, and not much had changed, not on the surface. Olli's head resting on his chest, his limbs skewed and stretching to touch Christian at any opportunity, he looked as he always did, angelic, innocent serene, and Christian blushed at the memory of how different he'd looked last night, holding Christian together and simultaneously dismantling him. Something fluttered wildly in him and he pulled Olli closer, needing to tether himself, before he floated away. He breathed deeply, absorbing the tangy scent of their shared sweat, the dull ache in his abs, and the subtle throbbing in his ass. That too was different, and good, Christian decided, very good. He felt tender and new, like pink skin healing over an old wound. But it had been Olli that had healed him and held him and freed him to trust.

"You're really something you know?" He whispered into a senseless ear, and he chuckled at Olli's sleepy snort. He shifted slightly, growing restless and hot in the tangled embrace, but Olli seemed to sense it and clutched tighter to Christian, sighing and smiling in his sleep. The oddly protective gesture served to soothe him a little, and he traced the wiry hairs on the arm across his waist and kissed Olli's forehead. It was still early, but Christian couldn't change his internal clock, and he was anxious to start the day. He knew Olli wouldn't wake up for a while - he never did after sex – and Christian wanted to put his impromptu proposal in motion, and start transferring Olli's things into the room immediately. His mind raced at the thought, absorbing for the first time the enormity of the request. But he didn't regret it, he wanted to sleep next to Olli every night, not just when they made love. He wanted the room to smell of him, and the sheets, maybe have some of that intoxicating scent linger on his own body. Honestly, he'd wanted it for a long time, and he had no excuse to wait anymore. Wriggling his way out of Olli's tentacle hold, he grabbed his aborted khakis from the floor. Olli shifted in protest behind him, but he made it to the door and out.

Olli's room was cramped, and Christian had known already that he didn't have a lot of possessions. He supposed Olli had been rootless and floating out at sea for so long before he came home, that he hadn't had the inclination to collect or save much. There were just a few pictures of him with Olivia when they were younger, a few here and there of Charlie and Lars and shots of Andi which, unaccountably, made Christian feel weirdly jealous, but it dissipated when he saw the photo of he and Olli in the ring after his big fight. How could he ever have doubted, he wondered, stepping closer to examine Olli in the photo. Olli's eyes, so beautiful and green, after he'd kissed him and the way the smile had spread slowly over his face; it made Christian feel more breathless than he had in he rounds with Axel, a kind of desperate breathlessness that scared and thrilled him. They'd build new memories, he decided, and he'd help Olli put real roots down. The back of his mind whispered something about marriage, but Christian shelved it for the moment, disturbed by the profound appeal of seeing Olli slowly go gray over time, of walking down an aisle with him toward forever.

Christian placed the framed picture back on the dresser and began to sing softly as he folded and organized Olli's clothes in distinct piles on the mattress. They never slept here because the mattress was a bit too small for two men of their size. And, truthfully, it made Christian a little wild to think he'd have to sleep in the same place as Timo. Olli had laughed at him, but conceded anyway, and they'd tacitly agreed to spend their nights together in Christian's room from then on.

When he reached the bottom drawer , his hand bumped against something hard. He pulled out a small red notebook and began to absently go through it. The first few pages held little sketches and doodles, and Christian smiled to see these little outpourings of Olli's imagination. He noted with interest that for the most part the drawings seemed to concentrate on the idea of a bar or club of his own. Christian sat down, fascinated at the detailed sketches and notes Olli had made. He'd had no idea that Olli had plans like this, and though he was clueless about architecture he knew enough about working in a bar to see that Olli's ideas were innovative and fresh and he felt a surge of pride at making the discovery. So it turned out that Olli did have dreams after all, and Christian vowed to throw his all into making it come true too.

He flipped the pages and chuckled at Olli's notes on 'No Limits' and 'Schneider's', listing what worked, and what didn't; he'd definitely have to ask Olli to share this with Gregor, his brother was generally immune to criticism, but Olli just had a way with people that Christian both awed and envied. He turned a few more pages until he came to some text in blue ink toward the back of the book. When began reading, he immediately recognized that it was personal in nature, a diary of some kind. He shut the book promptly, laid it on top of a pile of clothes, and continued to organize Olli's things. Privacy was something he valued, having never quite gotten used to having it back after prison. It wasn't something he would violate easily, but with every additional pile laid on the bed, and every sighting of that little red book, Christian's mind itched to know more. Was he mentioned? What did Olli think about? What did he write?

Searching his memory Christian could never recall Olli scribbling in a journal, and Christian was a champion Olli watcher. He'd catalogued nearly everything Sabel related, behaviors, appearance, habits, but that this had escaped his detection was nothing short of maddening. He had resisted valiantly for an hour, but he was at his limit. He folded his legs underneath him and sat down in the middle of bed, in a sort of makeshift nest of Olli's things, and opened up again to the page with the blue writing.

The door opened slowly and for a moment Christian could almost forget, could almost disregard every damning word in the face of the Olli before him. Olli, dressed in a pair of his boxers, looking sated and sleepy, was something Christian didn't think he could have resisted if his life depended on him. But when he saw the clouded shock and dismay in Olli's eyes, it was a wordless confirmation of everything he'd learned. And anger didn't even begin to encompass what he was feeling.

Olli hardly flinched when Christian flung the book at him, and Christian wasn't sure if it was shock or shame that made Olli so stilted and still, his natural fluidity absent as he made his way over to the bed, arms outstretched and pleading to explain. It made Christian curious, but that curiosity paled in comparison to the volcanic anger that was about to erupt from him. He thought that it ought to be good, ought to be damned good to hear the fucked up explanation Olli would produce for this. So he let Olli edge closer, and tried to stem the bile of betrayal creeping up his gullet, spoiling for fight and ruthlessly keeping his anguish at bay.

"I know what you've read," Olli started, "and I know it looks bad-"

"Bad?" Christian shouted, "Lying to your boss or cheating on your boyfriend is bad. But if what I read here is true Olli, you're fucking playing with people's hearts. It's sick and it's cruel, and how do I know it isn't what you're doing with me?" His voice faltered on that last question, because it was what he feared most of all, what he didn't want to be true. But he couldn't exclude the possibility, not when the evidence was staring him in the face.

"No, no, Christian, that's just not the case it's different with us I swear." Olli had edged closer, desperately clutching at Christian's hands. Christian was shocked at how clammy Olli's hands were, and dismayed to discover that a very large part of him wanted nothing more than to warm them in his own, and pull Olli close and tell him he believed him. Instead he stumbled out of the bed, over to the diary nearly crushing it in his hands as he turned to a page and read aloud.

_"Caught another straight boy checking me out at the gym, think he has a girlfriend, but I can make quick work of that." _

He flipped forward a few pages and read again, glaring at Olli.

_"Trying to decide between Ivan and the Greek waiter, I bet I could convince them to have a threesome, just need to make sure Ivan doesn't get too clingy. I think he almost told me he was in love with me, I might have to ditch him soon anyway. But I definitely want to get into that sweet ass. I haven't hooked up with a Greek yet."_

Olli's face crumpled at the harshness of his own language, and he shut his eyes as Christian continued to read through the sordid details of his past, flipping through the pages where he'd rated over seventy lovers, sordidly, systematically, cruelly.

_ " Jonas told me he loved me, looks like I'll have to cut him loose I don't need to deal with that shit right now. If I'd known he'd be such a leech I wouldn't have bothered. I tried to tell him from the beginning what to expect, but he just didn't listen. At least I'm not going to fuck him over, not like Tom. At least he'll know what he had coming to him"_

Christian turned to one of the final pages, his voice was quiet, a little scratchy and thick in his throat.

_"I think I hate Christian. Actually, scratch that. I _ know_ I do. He's a homophobic, small-minded, provincial jerk. It's almost like I haven't left Meppen at all. The only thing that kid has going for him are his hot girlfriend and his hot brother. He's such an asshole. I have no idea why Coco stays with him. Speaking of Coco, maybe she and I can have a little fun together. This little crush she's developed on me could definitely be to my benefit. It's been a while since I've been with a girl. I see the way she looks at me. I wonder if she's a good kisser? Christian wouldn't even know what hit him. The idiot. AND the asshole ate my fucking yogurt, again! I was really looking forward to that. On the upside, I have another date with Timo. Though that's not really an upside. I don't know, he's really nice, and I should want to get to know him better, but I just - I don't know. Maybe I'm incapable of feelings, of being able to be with someone that way. I should call it off before he expects too much. This is all getting so tired."_

He dropped the book then, and let his hands hang limp at his sides, examining the patina of the wood on Olli's floor, his throat burning with anger and his mind reeling and trying to reconcile the man he'd changed his life for - the man who he'd let fuck him for God's sake - with the callous and cruel thing he found in the journal. They were silent like that for a while, letting the words reverberate in the space around them. When he looked back up, Olli's head was bowed, his hands twisted in his lap and his lip caught and near bleeding between his teeth.

"Olli, am I just another notch on your belt?" Christian asked, hugging himself and feeling cold and small in the room. When he was five, his mother had been late picking him up from school, and he'd wept himself sick, convinced that she wasn't ever coming back. That feeling was back again, but magnified. Because, if the diary was true, then the Olli he thought he knew wasn't coming back either. That Olli might never have existed, and that possibility made everything in him dull and lifeless.

"Are you just going to drop me when you get bored?" he continued. "I've never been the sophisticated cool guy. I always left that to Gregor. But I've always been honest with you and with everyone. Just have the decency to do the same with me." Olli lifted his head, his eyes green and swimming. Christian was momentarily stunned at guileless hurt he saw shining from them.

"I'm sorry," Olli answered, and Christian felt his world tilting on a dangerous axis, until Olli continued in that same haunted and broken voice. "I'm sorry you ever had to read that, but you have to believe me Christian, you're not just another notch on the belt, and I swear, I'm not the person who wrote that anymore. I'm different."

He stood, breathless with the sudden surge of hope in his chest, as Olli walked over to the journal and picked it up off the ground. "Let me read you the last thing I wrote in here." Christian was shocked, momentarily, to find his hand clasped tightly in Olli's, and he walked on numbed feet, as he followed Olli to the bed to sitting next to him and trying to stop his heart from leaping out of his mouth. Olli turned to a page in the back of the book, and started reading in his low mellow tenor.

_"Christian passed his swimming exam! I'm so proud of him, I don't even know what to do with myself. He was so excited he hugged me, just completely out of the blue. And, God, it was perfect. Until Judith walked in and ruined it. I can't wait to tell Gast84. I knew that side of Christian existed, and I wish he'd show it to me more. I can't describe it, even though it was a few seconds, when he held me it felt so perfect and right. He smelled amazing, even under the chlorine and the shirt that I know he's been wearing for two days in a row. He felt amazing - he is amazing. He told me he was glad that I'd been supporting him, and I would do it forever, if he would just look at me like that again. He's so beautiful it makes my head hurt. I hung out with him and Judith all night celebrating, and part of me just wanted to kiss him and hold him and kick Judith the fuck out, but another part of me was ok just being with him, just talking and laughing. I must be sick. Oliver Sabel doesn't care about sex? Alert the authorities. But it's true, if given the choice, I wouldn't have sex with Christian as long as we could be together like we were last night._

_ I think I could live off of his smile. I love him. I love everything about him. I didn't know what that was, I didn't understand the whole "love thing." It's frightening. I'm totally his and there's no hope of us ever being together. Sometimes I wish I'd never gone to that cabin, but you haven't lived until you've shared secrets with Christian by the firelight. I'd hoped maybe it was just an intense crush, but it's the real thing._

_ My God, I can't even blame this on alcohol, I didn't drink that much tonight. I just love him. I am totally and completely in love for the first time in my life. I'm in trouble, this is totally hopeless. But I've fallen so far and so fast for him, I can't stop, I don't want to stop. I just wish he wanted to catch me. _

The starch slowly seeped out of Christian, replaced with relief and a strange electric jolt of protectiveness. He found that he was moving closer with every word, until his leg was flush with Olli's, and he was close enough to feel the heat of his body. When Olli was done reading the final few lines Christian moved to rest his head on Olli's shoulder, and knocked the book out of Olli's hand, replacing it with his own.

"You like throwing things around, huh?" Olli said it lightly, but Christian was an anatomy student, and he saw the tension in the chords of Olli's neck tighter than cable wire. He kissed them, trying to soothe the taut muscle into rest.

"No, sometimes I'm just careless." He answered. "I shouldn't have read it in the first place Olli, that was dumb."

"Right," Olli said, tapping lightly on his chest, "And barring that, you could have at least finished reading it. I know I wasn't always the nicest guy back then." Olli said soberly, his eyes fluttering shut at the softness of Christian's eager mouth and the hands skimming gently along his back, "But you make me want to be a better person Christian, and it scares me, sometimes, how much I love you."

Christian kissed him properly, then, hauling Olli closer to press their lips together and sink one hand in eerily soft hair, and the other over Olli's chest to feel his heart beating fast and steady almost in time with his own. He stripped Olli of his boxers before pushing him down to the bed and knocking over the remaining piles of clothing. His laughter was soft when Olli protested the rough treatment of his clothes. It was replaced with a low heated grunt when Olli bit his neck at just the right spot to make him shudder and press Olli into the mattress even harder.

"Ow, you little carnivore." Christian muttered, but it soon turned to whimpers when Olli's hot tongue snaked out to soothe the mark on his neck, and those hands began to deftly undo the fly of his cargo pants.

"Mmm," Olli sighed. "That'll teach you to snoop around in people's things."

"Yes," Christian breathed harshly through his nose as Olli grasped him firmly in his warm strong hands. Christian collapsed then, squeezing a grunt from Olli as his cock slid in and out of Olli's wonderful fist. He buried his nose into Olli's nape and breathed, dazed at the scent that was always waiting for him at the crook of his neck, and overwhelmed by his need for Olli, which never seemed to wane.

"Why do you always smell so good?" Christian whined, running his tongue over Olli's fresh stubble and sucking a bruise into the pale warm skin of his throat. As though that could solve the mystery, as though divining the chemical composition of Olli's sweat and skin could somehow make it all make sense. Olli knew better, and answered by arching up and wrapping his hand around them both, gasping at the slick velvet feeling of their shafts rubbing together.

Christian groaned, trapped by his desire to not move a muscle and lose the exquisite feeling of Olli's sex against his, and his desire to taste more of Olli's delicious skin. He chose the latter, flicking his tongue out and branding the skin with teeth marks in all the places he knew Olli liked best as he worked his way down his pale shivering torso. When he finally took Olli into his mouth, he had to squeeze his hand like a vice around his own erection, because the inhuman wail of pleasure he was rewarded with nearly killed him.

Olli had always said Christian was a natural at this, which had confused Christian, because with Olli hot slick and throbbing on his tongue, how could he not want to swallow him whole? How could he resist pressing his tongue into he warm slit and rolling his essence around in his mouth? There were very few situations that Christian could imagine being better than this. Olli ruthlessly fucking his mouth, Olli pulling on his hair, Olli burning so incandescent with pleasure he couldn't tear his eyes away from it.

"Christian, so- so- close, baby." He half –whispered, half - grunted it, and clutched even harder at Christian's hair, and the hurt of it was enough to take the edge off of Christian's arousal, though perversely it made him even more eager and he felt the same uncontrollable greed from last night seep into him. He wanted more of Olli, and he wasn't frightened anymore that this was the way it would be, for a very long time, possibly forever. His only option, was to take it. Because it was what they both wanted, they had both fallen hard, but they had fallen together.

Shaking free of Olli's grasp Christian let his dick slide out slowly, fully aware of how he looked, his hair tousled his lips swollen and wet with Olli's pre-cum. He smiled, a debauched slow grin at Olli's irritated and aroused growl. "You left the lube in my room, didn't you?" he asked, pushing Olli's legs back, running his hands along the solid wiry strength of his thighs. Olli nodded, confused and panting as he reached for his dick, sparing a glare for Christian's audacity at leaving him like this. Christian grinned even wider and lazily pushed the determined hand aside before swooping down and burying his tongue in Olli's winking hole.

He had been inside Olli, countless times, but not like this, and the intimacy of it - Olli's own unique musk and his heat, and the fluttering of his muscles around Christian's tongue- made his heart pound. It didn't help that Olli's limbs flailed every time Christian pushed his tongue inside, or that when Christian nipped lightly on the outside of his puckered entrance, Olli arched off the mattress nearly knocking them both off the tiny bed, his voice strained and gasping with half formed words and pleas. Christian knew he'd be doing this again, but he couldn't go on much longer, because if he didn't get inside Olli, right now, right this moment, he knew he would quite probably die.

When Olli flipped them over with a roar Christian was relieved that he'd get what he needed, but also panicked because they didn't have a condom, and Olli was always lecturing him about being safe. But Olli wasn't lecturing now, his mouth was hanging open in a soundless moan and he was slowly lowering himself onto Christian until they were fully joined. And Christian had to hold him still, because he was staggering from how hot and smooth Olli was inside, how good and right it felt, not just like this, but always. When he felt his balls press against the soft skin of Olli's ass, the last gasp of rational thought disappeared from his brain, replaced by a devastating frisson of arousal at the feel of being buried so deeply inside of the man he loved.

Olli's cock, unapologetically hard and bouncing in time to Christian's erratic thrusts, was tempting. Knowing that neither of them would last long, Christian spit in his hand and began palming Olli's erection, pressing the hot length of it against his belly and collecting some of the fluid in his hand to taste, as they followed a timeless rhythm together. Olli threw his head back at the feeling, and Christian, awed by the dissolution of his own name in Olli's mouth slid his hands all over Olli's sex-flushed skin and pulled him down roughly, trying to thrust deeper into the tight puckered hole.

Olli, so open for him, his hot desperate breathing filling Christian's ears, his hips working in tight perfect circles – Christian didn't want it to end, but he was coming. He was coming apart, coming inside Olli, his eyes shut tight as his hands gripped Olli mercilessly and strange desperate noises flowed out of him. He opened his eyes in time to see Olli whimpering and trembling as though his orgasm were a biological attack leaving him bereft of grace and speech.

He smiled as Olli slowed his movements, still moaning and sighing softly as his ass fluttered around Christian, trying to hold the softening cock inside of him. Christian thrust up a few more times, entranced at how slick and warm Olli was, more than a little turned on by the idea of filling Olli with his seed, but too tired to properly do anything about it besides kiss his neck and cheek in appreciation.

"Maybe you should read my diary more often." Olli mumbled as he slowly clambered off Christian.

"Mmm. All part of the master plan." Christian answered, noncommittally. He was too busy tasting Olli's lips again and trying to arrange them comfortably on the bed. Olli chuckled softly and wrapped himself around Christian, already more than half asleep.

"Olli, we can't sleep too long we still have to move your stuff." The only answer he received was a muffled snore, and after an exploratory poke in the ribs, Christian decided to just let him sleep. When Olli's breathing had gone quiet and even, he tightened his hold around Olli and whispered. "Of course I wanted to catch you. I always did."

Olli had written that he hadn't known what love was, but Christian thought he understood, now. It was a continuous frightening tumble into the unknown, with no parachute but your other half to keep you afloat. His hand slid over Olli's heart and he smiled. They would land safely together, intact. He kissed Olli's ear and settled into sleep.


End file.
